


A Perfect End to a Horrible Day

by helenlavoie



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alcohol, Cigarettes, Drinking, Gen, Headcanon, Marijuana, Smoking, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1916052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenlavoie/pseuds/helenlavoie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is based on a headcanon that I have about Newt Geiszler:<br/>"Newt will lock himself in his quarters after a frustrating day in the lab, and just chainsmoke cigarettes, take bong rip after bong rip, and take shots of a strong alcohol to get his head straight."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect End to a Horrible Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Pacific Rim fanfiction story. I put a decent amount of effort into it, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Newt flung open the door to his living quarters, and slammed it shut with all of his might. It had been a particularly frustrating day in the lab. He had clumsily dropped a glass microscope slide on the ground. It had taken three hours to prepare the sample, and the glass shattered instantly when it hit the lab's concrete floor. He had yelled and cursed for five minutes, and banged his pinky toe on the leg of a table. To top it all off, just an hour later, when he had finally started to cool down, a kaiju organ literally blew up in his face. That was the last straw.

Now Newt was standing in the middle of his dorm room, and his face was still stinging from the ammonia of the kaiju guts. He was still fuming, and definitely seeing red. He couldn't believe he had been so careless in the lab, and it was time to do something about it. Newt flipped the deadbolt lock on his door, and pressed in the lock on the doorknob. He didn't want anyone to disturb what he was about to do.

Storming into his bedroom, Newt pulled the door to his closet open, so hard that he thought he might rip it off the hinges, but at this point he didn't care. He put his hands in between the clothes in the middle of the rack, and shoved them to the edges of the closet at the same time. No matter how many times he had done this, he was still amazed at what was behind the clothes: a two foot tall, blue and green glass bong. There were sparkly ridges swirling around the tube, and the bowl piece itself had a beautiful glass bead on it that looked like it contained a galaxy. The moment he saw this bong in the shop, it instantly reminded him of a kaiju, so he knew it was the piece for him. Newt also had several glass pipes, but he always resorted to the bong after days in the lab that made him want to tear out his hair.

Newt smiled as he grabbed the bong, and carefully carried it into the living room, where he placed it on his coffee table. The next stop was the kitchen, where he took his weed stash out of a kaiju cookie jar on top of the fridge. He also opened the freezer, and took out a frosty bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin. He put the bottle on the counter, dropped the weed off on the coffee table, and headed back into the kitchen. As Newt opened a cabinet and took out two shot glasses, he pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and put the butt to his lips. Next came the spark of the lighter, the glowing end of the cigarette, and a lung full of nicotine smoke. This first drag ate away one third of the whole cigarette, and Newt couldn't be happier. As he slowly exhaled the smoke out of his mouth, he let the cigarette dangle from his lip. As satisfying as this smoke was, Newt was eager to get the weed smoke into his lungs, too. But first, he turned his attention to the shot glasses.

The Bombay Sapphire bottle had spent the last few weeks in the freezer, untouched because Newt had not had a disastrous day in quite some time. He wasn't a huge drinker, but he kept the bottle chilling for the off chance that a day like this might happen. Newt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, bent down so he was eye level with the countertop, and filled the shot glasses all the way up to the rim. The cigarette was still in his mouth, and he took another long pull off of it as he stood up, and recapped the bottle. Then, while holding the cigarette in his left hand, he quickly threw back both shots of gin. The cold liquor was very soothing to him, and he enjoyed the slight burn that came after he swallowed.

_And now,_ Newt thought, _for the best part._

The bong and weed were beckoning to Newt from their spot on the coffee table, and Newt was not going to ignore them any longer. He practically skipped into the living room, and plopped himself down on the couch. He rested the half smoked cigarette in an ash tray, as he turned his attention to the bong. Newt was giggling to himself as he broke up the green buds. It had been over a week since he last smoked up, and he realized how much he had missed it. It was great that he had been able to focus on and enjoy his work recently, but he really did love getting high. The two shots of gin were starting to hit him (had he even eaten lunch or dinner?) as he leaned over the bong, and prepared himself for that first hit. 

Newt put his lips over the opening, gripped the tube with his left hand, flicked the lighter with his right thumb, and began to inhale. The green weed turned into a blazing orange in a matter of seconds, but it seemed like an eternity to Newt. He continued to suck as he watched the thick smoke travel up through the blue and green glass. When the smoke finally got to his mouth, he was in heaven. He filled the whole chamber, pulled the bowl piece out of the stem, and inhaled deeply. For a moment, Newt felt like he was floating off the couch, and he was at complete peace. He slowly exhaled, and let the smoke dance in front of his face. 

The combination of the gin and one hit of marijuana were working their magic on Newt, but suddenly, the flood of rage and frustration from earlier in the day came crashing back into his brain. Determined to shake those feelings, Newt quickly took three more large rips from the bong. The smoke was beginning to fill the room, and it was getting hard to see his anime posters and kaiju action figures that were only five or six feet away from the couch. His cigarette was also slowly burning down to the filter. He picked it up, took a few quick puffs, and snubbed it out in the ash tray. 

“Time for round two in the kitchen, but I need some tunes in here.” Newt muttered, as he heaved himself off the couch. 

Newt staggered to the left as he made his way to his laptop, which was sitting on his desk on the other side of the living room. He grinned at his Godzilla desktop wallpaper, and opened Pandora to his heavy metal station. “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC started to blare over the speakers, and Newt sauntered back into the kitchen. He had forgotten to put the Bombay Sapphire back in the freezer, and the bottle was starting to sweat onto the counter. Newt simply wiped the condensation with his hand and rubbed it on the back of his pants as he poured two more shots. Gin had always been his favorite liquor because, for some reason, it got him drunk much faster than any other type of alcohol. Sometimes that made him nervous, but it was perfect for a night like this. He swallowed both shots, and made his way back to his beloved bong. 

Newt’s head was starting to spin as he finished off the weed left in the bong’s bowl piece. His previous thoughts of anger and displeasure in himself were all but gone now, and Newt felt like he could finally relax. Metallica’s version of “Turn the Page” began to play on his laptop, and he jumped off the couch, and started to sing it at the top of his lungs. He lit another cigarette as he swayed back and forth to the heavy guitar riffs. 

There were times when Newt ached for human companionship, but this was not one of those times. He knew that Hermann would have told him everything he had just done was “pointless” and “unnecessary.” Tendo Choi was a fun dude to party with, but his endless chattering drove Newt up the wall. Newt loved being alone in his own little hazy world. No one was there to distract him from clouding his own thoughts. Newt took a long drag off of his cigarette, and congratulated himself for locking himself in his room. He had really needed to step out of reality to calm his thoughts, and he had done just that. 

As “Riot” by Three Days Grace blasted through his laptop speakers, Newt was feeling very happy with himself, even though the room was starting to spin. His feet wobbled beneath him as he stumbled into the kitchen to throw a sandwich together. Ham, cheese, mayo, and pickles. His favorite. While he was in the kitchen, Newt downed another shot of gin. He had already eaten half of the sandwich by the time he sat back down on the couch, and he decided it was time for another bowl of weed. As he packed up his bong, he couldn’t help but feel content. 

“I’m Newt fucking Geiszler, and I am the shit,” he purred to himself. He took another large hit from the bong, and nestled in between the couch cushions, with visions of battling jaegers and kaiju dancing in his head. 


End file.
